Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Niger and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Fat Boys to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Standells. All the underground hits.
All Alton Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mark Hollis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Cell,
Con Funk Shun,
Angry Samoans,
Roxette,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
World's Most,
Dave Gahan,
Banda Bassotti,
Ossler,
Make Up,
Peter and Kerry,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Pulsallama,
KRS-One,
Mo-Dettes,
Pantaleimon,
Vladislav Delay,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Doobie Brothers,
Sarah Menescal,
Aloha Tigers,
CMW,
Clear Light,
Talk Talk,
Guru Guru,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Hasil Adkins,
Bootsy Collins,
Soulsonic Force,
H. Thieme,
Nik Kershaw,
Kurtis Blow,
Deadbeat,
D'Angelo,
Lou Christie,
Jeff Mills,
Ronan,
Marcia Griffiths,
Man Parrish,
8 Eyed Spy,
OOIOO,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
the Association,
Albert Ayler,
Dorothy Ashby,
Minnie Riperton,
Amon Düül II,
The Index,
Monolake,
X-101,
Althea and Donna,
Jeru the Damaja,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Doors,
Flamin' Groovies,
Youth Brigade,
Symarip,
Traffic Nightmare,
Television,
Thee Headcoats,
The Black Dice,
Chris Corsano,
the Soft Cell,
the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.